In His Arms
by Talvana
Summary: Taking place after the end of Mockingjay but before the epilogue, Peeta still fights through what remains of his hijacked brain. When nightmares plague him, only Katniss can reach him.
1. Chapter 1

**In His Arms**

**A/N: I swear I couldn't think of better title so don't judge. Now I'm sure this has been done before but I just finished the series and had to get my first Hunger Games fic out there. This takes place after the end of the third book but before the epilogue. So please review and stuff because I really do appreciate the feedback. Writing in present tense is a challenge for me so hopefully this isn't too bad. Enjoy.**

Peeta screams and I jolt awake at the ear splitting sound. I fly out of bed and run downstairs, unable to get to him fast enough. He lies on the couch where I had left him hours ago, convulsing under the sheets I had laid over him before heading to bed myself. He had stayed late to keep me company as we worked on our book and had been too tired to return to his house. At the time I'd thought it was a good sign that he felt comfortable enough to sleep in the same building as me. Clearly I had been wrong.

I reach him, immediately grab his shoulders and begin shaking him with all my strength. Trying to pull him out of whatever hell his mind has created. I know what I'm doing is dangerous. I know he could easily awaken and not be the real Peeta. I know it is all too possible that when his eyes open and see me there, his hands may go straight for my throat. But I don't care. I won't leave him to the nightmares I know too well myself.

His limbs flail as he shrieks mercilessly at some nightmare I desperately try to free him of. His fists knot into the sheet and threaten to tear it to pieces.

"Peeta!" I call to him. My voice seems to reach him and I yell his name again and again. I can't be sure if it's painful or comforting for him but it's all I can do to pull him out of the nightmare.

With one final shake I scream in his ear, "PEETA!" and his eyes shoot open and meet mine.

I release him immediately and back away a few steps when I see his wild gaze. He remains locked on me a moment and I hold his eyes. I assume, and hope, he is registering his surrounds and what is real.

"I'm in your house in the Victor's Village in District 12. Real or not real?" He asks in a shaky voice.

"Real." I answer quickly. I've grown accustomed to giving him rapid responses.

His eyes wonder and I relax my stance a bit as I watch that wild gaze fade slightly.

"You…want to kill me?"

"Not real." I answer even faster.

He sits up and untangles himself from the sheets, tossing them aside. I see now that his brow is shining with sweat and the muscles in his arms are shaking. When he buries his face in his hands and leans forward in his seat I can't stop my feet from carrying me over to him. I sit beside Peeta's warm and still shaking body, gingerly place a hand on his shoulder and hope for the best.

At first he doesn't say anything. I wonder if I should ask him where he was in the dream but decide against it. So I wait and lightly rub my hand across his back, trying to calm him down if I can. After what I guess to be about fifteen minutes, I feel him take a deep breath and pull himself up. I remove my hand and watch his movements carefully.

"I was in the arena again," he says without looking at me. I understand better than most others and he knows that much. I suppose I should at least be grateful for that. I don't let myself think he might start to be trusting me again, only because if I'm wrong I know it will hurt.

I want so desperately to reach out to him. To assure him he's safe here and nothing can hurt him again. That there are no more arenas. No more games. But then I remember that's not true. For him, for us, the games never end.

Then he looks at me. His eyes sparkle, tears threatening just behind them but there's something else. He seems to be searching in me for something. Maybe something familiar. Something real. I see this in his eyes often nowadays. But I never know what it is he's searching for or what I can offer him. The only comfort I try to take in it is that when he looks at me like this, he is Peeta.

My hand moves on its own. It rises up to cup his face and at first he flinches away from my touch, but I don't let my arm fall and after a moment his cheek finds my palm. I cradle his face and his eyelids fall. I watch some of the tenseness relax out of him. Deciding it's worth the risk, my other hand wraps around the back of his neck and my fingers work their way through his hair. I pull my legs up underneath me and face him. His eyes stay closed. I move into him. He remains relaxed. I can't stop myself. I kiss him.

I know I've gone too far instantly. I release my grip the moment I feel him resist and leap off the couch. "I'm sorry." I say quickly.

"No," he responds faster than I expect. "I…I just don't know…" He's struggling to find himself again. This is what always hurts me the most. I think that maybe the best thing I can do for him is to leave. So I do.

Without another word I am back upstairs in my room and crawling under my covers, preparing to cry myself to sleep over Peeta's pain, when he's standing in the doorway. I freeze, not sure if I should go to him to leap out the window.

"I don't think I can sleep alone," he says slowly, forming the words as he goes. I wait. I watch him form thoughts and put them into sentences. "You…you used to scream too. On the train." I wait for the question. "Real or not real?"

"Real."

He nods pensively. Another moment passes and he just stares at me. Then, "I slept with you, and I stopped the nightmares." I nod once.

I pull the sheets away on the right side of the bed and scoot over to the left. He carefully climbs under the covers, still unsure of himself. I let him take his time. Once he's settled we both lie down and face each other. I wrap my arms around him, hugging his warm and familiar body into mine. He's tense, and still not quite my Peeta, but I pray he's in there somewhere and getting ever closer.

I don't know if he sleeps or not as I doze in and out of consciousness. I hold him and hope that if he does find sleep again the nightmares leave him in peace. It's probably hours later on into the night and I'm lost somewhere between sleep and awake when I feel a pair of sure, strong arms wrap tightly around me. I don't move. I don't even look to see if he is asleep or awake himself. But whether in consciousness or in his dreams, these are my Peeta's arms that hold me.


	2. Chapter 2

**In His Arms**

**A/N: Okay, first of all, I hadn't really planned out whether this would be a one shot or not but after getting so much immediate response I decided, why not? So thank you so much to all you guys who reviewed and asked for more. It means a lot and PLEASE keep responding and critiquing me, I really love the feedback.**

**Anyway, here's chapter two. Hope it's satisfactory. I just need more Hunger Games in my life even if I have to write it myself.**

When I wake up in the morning the sun beats down through my eyelids. A deep red hue glows in my vision until I open my eyes. I blink the sleep away and curl my arms in tight. They close on air and I am instantly sitting upright.

_Peeta._ My mind can't even form a thought or a question. I can only think his name. I try to recall the previous night's events. It speeds through in my mind's eye but I stop on one moment. No, not a moment as much as a feeling. Heat. Wrapped all around me. Peeta's arms closed around me. His warmth pressed close to me as I sleep. I smile but my brow creases because…I'm not so sure this memory is real.

I don't make the bed or even bother to change my clothes; I need to know right now what's real.

When I find Peeta he isn't far away. My nose leads me down the stairs and I discover him in my kitchen standing over a sizzling pan of bacon.

"Good morning," he says with a bright grin. He is himself. I know this right away, he has the same look in his eyes that he had when I found him in my backyard with the wheelbarrow full of primroses after he returned to Twelve. Right now at least, he is Peeta.

Unfortunately I am not fully myself at the moment. I ask immediately, "You slept with me last night. Real or not real?"

His expression hardens a moment but he answers me. "Real." I watch the confusion flood his gaze. Before it can take away my Peeta I ask another question.

"You held me?"

No answer. He turns back to the pan.

"Real or not real?"

I wait in silence but suddenly remind myself, I can't lean on him like I used to. I've been good lately, fighting to get the real Peeta back, but every now and again I forget and resort to my old ways. Back when I relied on him to take care of me no matter what. I tell myself now that he can't do that anymore. My lungs breathe in a full breath of air and I try to save the moment after my rash actions.

Taking a couple plates from the cabinet I set the table without speaking a word. He sets the pan on the table along with a bowl of scrambled eggs I hadn't noticed before. As he cleans off the stove I sit down and say "I'm sorry." I know it's pathetic but I can't think of anything else to say.

He sighs, then turns to face me from across the kitchen. "I am too," he admits. My head cocks slightly at this. He comes over to sit beside me. "I don't know, Katniss. That's just it. I don't know the answer. Real or not real, I don't know." It takes me a moment but I understand. If I couldn't remember if I dreamed that he held me like he used to so many nights when I screamed in my sleep, why should I expect him to. I feel like a complete moron. He continues when I don't respond. "It's just…at night I get more confused. I dream memories, good and bad, but I can't sort out what's what in my sleep…"

I want so desperately to say something. Anything. But no words come to my lips. I open my mouth in hopes that something will come out but nothing does and I feel even more idiotic. In a poor attempt to cover, I take a piece of bacon and shove it in my mouth. Although it's still a bit hot, the texture is perfectly crispy. Only Peeta's touch.

"But I didn't have any more nightmares last night," he says softly.

My head snaps to look at him and our eyes lock on one another. I measure his stare as he reads my expression. It's all I can do to ask quietly, "You did?"

"Yeah," a half smile pulls over his lips for a moment and I have to smile too, "I mean, I was scared at first. I didn't want to hurt you, but when I woke up you were still clinging tightly to me and…I didn't want to kill you." I laugh at this and then stop when I realize he doesn't find it funny. Though I feel my cheeks turn pink at the thought of me clinging to him all night long. In the awkward moment that follows, he does laugh. "I suppose what I'm trying to say is, thank you."

I swallow the mouthful of soft, fluffy eggs I just shoved in my mouth and breath "You're welcome." He laughs again and I smile at the sound. Finally I think of something to say, "Well, you're welcome anytime here you know. Night or day."

At first he is uncertain, but when evening comes that night and he leaves to go home it's less than an hour before there's a knock on my door.


	3. Chapter 3

**In His Arms**

**A/N: Again, thanks so much for all the hits on this fic. As inactive as I am on fanfiction it's nice to know my stuff is getting read. As always, reviews are very very very welcome. I know it's short but I hope you enjoy chapter three. **

Not because of plaguing nightmares, but because of some other reason we are not entirely sure of, Peeta and I do not fall straight to sleep.

"Are you ever scared of me?" he asks in the silence. We lie facing each other on the bed, not touching, just staring into one another's eyes in the moonlight.

I think about my answer for a moment and then say, "No. I never was actually."

He raises an eyebrow at me and a smile pulls over my lips. I explain to him, "I never felt afraid of you. I was wary of you, kept my distance at first but I never…feared you…" The words sound so wrong on my tongue. Being afraid of Peeta? How could I ever be afraid of Peeta? I know what he's asking but the boy who tried to strangle me back in Thirteen was not him. As far as I'm concerned, that was not Peeta so no, of course I never feared him. I know this won't be as simple for him to understand though.  
>He takes in my response and stares past me into space for a moment before I have to ask, "You alright?" It's become a constant habit of mine to check in with him when I see that glazed look over his eyes. I guess I am afraid when I see that wild gaze, not for myself, but because I do fear losing him again.<p>

He meets my eyes and smiles a warm Peeta smile. "Yeah, just a bit surprised I suppose."

"Explain?" I shoot him a questioning look.

"Just you. You never cease to amaze me Katniss." The tone in his voice, the wide grin across his face, the sparkle inside his eye, these are things I once thought I'd never see again. This is the way Peeta used to look at me in the arena during both of our Games, this is the way he looked at me during our Victory Tour and during our days living in the Victor's Village before the Quell, this is how he watched me from afar for years when I never spoke to him.

This is what I had taken for granted and thought I'd lost.

Seeing him look at me this way again now, I can't even attempt to stop the tears they come so fast.

"Katniss?" Peeta doesn't even hesitate to reach out to me this time. A part of me screams that I shouldn't accept; that I can't lean on him. I have to take care of Peeta now. But his arms are strong and his chest is warm so I pull myself all too willing into his hug. "What's wrong? What is it?"

I know I have to say something but it's always when I need them most that words elude me. I choke back the sobs so I don't completely lose it. When nothing else comes to mind I am forced to tell him the truth. "You haven't looked at me like that in…" I try to meet his eyes but when my tongue fails I can only wrap my arms around his torso and bury my face in a pillow.

"Katniss?" His voice is less urgent but when I don't move I feel soft fingers close over my chin. He pulls my face out of the pillow and guides my eyes to his. We just look at each other a moment. "Real or not real?..." He pauses and I wait for the question. "…You're afraid right now?"

I think I know the answer but then, "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I miss you." The words come out on their own. "And I don't want to lose you again."

"Are you afraid I'm going to hurt you?" His voice is oddly stern. Not hard exactly, but I can sense the urgency about him now.

"No." This answer is immediate. I watch his expression as he takes this in and measures my words. His face softens back to the Peeta I know and I smile. He does too though I'm not sure why exactly. His arms tighten around me and I welcome it. We wrap into one another and I rest my head on his familiar chest. I don't realize until this moment how much I truly missed it. His chest, his touch, his arms keeping me safe. I know he's still fighting and I know tomorrow I will have to take care of him again and I will gladly, but for now I let us be what we used to be while my Peeta is here for me. Sleep comes sudden and fast for me but I am awake enough to know when Peeta kisses my forehead, I am not dreaming.


End file.
